Monday, September 29, 2014

Living with Mental Illness,
  Live Journal Post, January 7, 2008

I have been re reading Rosamunde Pilcher...

all full of hope and love, and disappointments, bittersweet loves that turn right in the end, even if the love walks hand in hand with untold misery.

Her books are often about living during the second world war, i like books about that time, the misery and the hope so desperately in twinged much like how every day seems to go for me, any time hope can be dashed away taken by fear or despair... when you suffer like i do, and the medications seem to do nothing to ease the pain of living, those bright points of hope, they are what you survive on, hope and the responsibility of being loved, because when you are loved, by your friends, family, your children, you have a commitment to them, to be what they need, to help and love them as they love you, and hard as it is, you have to push through the despair and the misery and the physical pain and carry on

i know that more often than not, i mess it all up, the agony of intense emotion lays heavily on my soul, and sometimes i am so overwhelmed that i can scarcely turn on the oven, or even hear what is being said to me, tho my attention is fixed on the task, it comes through a heavy mist, or from far away so that, i am short tempered or inattentive and still manage to raise my voice, or burn myself, or do some other silly damage that reduces me to tears of frustration and loss.

They say tomorrow is a new day, but it is not really, its just a continuation of what has been happening for the past 30 years of my life, and i have enough skill and intelligence to read the writing on the wall and know that it can be better at times, but it IS a progressive illness so in the long run it can only get worse.

this paragraph from The Shell Seekers, hit me, because i realized that this is the only way that we can survive, and that is sad, because it means that no matter how hard i try, i cannot hope to have anything more than i have right now, because at any moment the war could be over, and when you have mental illness, i am not so sure the war would end in my favor....

"There is a war on.  We don't know how anything is going to end.  We just have to grasp each fleeting moment of joy as it whizzes by.  If he loves you and you love him, then you just go on ahead.  I'm right behind you both and i'll do everything i can to help.  Now, for God's sake, let's get these dishes out of the way before the boys get home and it's time to start cooking the supper."

so i am going to get the ironing out of the way, and maybe play with one of the rabbits, even tho i feel that i am falling to pieces and am always with one foot in the grave.

The problem with bi-polar is yes, this too shall pass, only to be replaced by a worse bout than the one before, and a cycle that becomes so rapid that i think i have whiplash, sleep, real sleep, is something i remember from a time so long ago that i wonder if it really exists,  i do not like to leave things on a note of sorrow, because that always makes me feel like i am wallowing.... but i remember the promise of love, and i will keep faith for my friends, and my family, that is the best that i can do, tho i cannot think for the life of me what such a miserable creature as i have done to deserve such love..... 

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